I'm a connoissieur of unusual voices. Though I love a good singing voice, I really dig the odd and outré. Hence, give me David Surkamp, Chris Farlowe, Leon Thomas, Snips, David Bromberg, Arthur Brown (when he's on it, which isn't very often), and I'm in bliss. There's something about those who wield offbeat pipes that carries an extra dimension of humanity, warmth, artfulness, and, of course, timbre. Ya dig? Now add Ryan Montbleau to the list, cause his is definitely a non-standard larynx and one that very rapidly grows on you, if you can go beyond the standard and the formulaic.
Montbleau has the street elements of a Bromberg, the zwee-bop of Robert Kraft, the sass of Robert Montgomery, and a wine-soaked be-bop that bounces and orates, rhyming, expostulating, and counting the nines like a jazz-dive rebel cutting his teeth in the face of a populist milieu too readily giving up the ghost. He also has a tight backing band engraving the cuts with funky, bluesy, metro, bluegrassy chops always swinging with spirit and reet-pleated class. All and sundry like a dollop of craziness too, including an homage to breakfast Eggs, of all things. Then there's Shine On, incredibly Van Morrison-ish, burning with the kind of trembling passion most won't attempt. Impressive, and my favorite cut.
And ya know, all y'all, that anyone hip enough to dig on hizzoner Lord Buckley is just way too wig-flipped to exist on planet Earth. These cats cut him into the intro for Grain of Sand, which swangs and jives like a lesson in erudite stream of consciousness and dissolving styles, approaching a Joe Jacksony melange…if Jackson had been cool enuff to get to this, that is. So, lay an ear, beat daddies and jitterbuggin' kitties, pick up what this Montbleau and his smokin' backjivin' groovesters are dispensing lest the squares take over and turn everything gingham and plaid. It's not too late.
Edited by: David N. Pyles
Website design by David N. Pyles